


Push

by ghostie_withthemostie



Series: Rick dick ficlets [3]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: F/M, Possessive Behavior, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 17:23:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5936673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostie_withthemostie/pseuds/ghostie_withthemostie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was wise not to press, not to ask for much from him in this regard. Your post-coital glow resulted in you acting in a way that normally you never would, but you couldn’t help pushing just a little, knowing that with each shove there is always a tiny bit of give.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push

“Ohhh, Rick...” 

Your moan is soft and low, reveling in the aftermath of your shared orgasm. It’s rare for you both to finish at the same time and, in your weakened state, you’re unable to allow the intimate moment to pass by without some acknowledgement. You’re about to lean up to press your lips to his when he yanks backward, cursing.

“Sh-shit, don’t get…don’t get fuckin’ weird on me, okay?” His nearly flaccid organ slips from you, trailing a string of your mingled juices along your inner thighs. Rick stomps away, retrieving his lab coat on the floor and digging through the pockets until he has his flask. Keeping his back to you, Rick throws his head back, taking a large gulp of the potent liquid.

You keep your mouth shut, allowing him time to work through his own emotional aftermath. He takes a few moments to huff and twitch his shoulders, staring up at the ceiling deep in thought, as he continues drinking until his feelings are dulled. It was wise not to press, not to ask for much from him in this regard. Your post-coital glow resulted in you acting in a way that normally you never would, but you couldn’t help pushing just a little, knowing that with each shove there is always a tiny bit of give.

Rick had relaxed now, coming back down to earth from whatever dark, mental dimension he retreated to when faced with intimacy. Making his way over to the bed once again, he flopped himself flat on his back next to you, sighing heavily. You eye the spirit-filled container he still clutches in one hand, deciding to push just a little more tonight.

“Can I have a sip?”

Rick’s gaze shoots to yours, hot and angry. “D-Don’t be fucking stupid,” he growls, rolling onto his side and sliding one hand over your abdomen. His tone morphs to match his touch, gentle and reverent. “You know you can’t.”

 


End file.
